


In which everyone enjoys the bath

by Overlord_Bethany



Series: blundering onward [26]
Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Castle also has a single line in this, Multi, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 21:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overlord_Bethany/pseuds/Overlord_Bethany
Summary: This takes place pretty much immediately after the last one. No, it's not smut, no matter how it tried to be.





	In which everyone enjoys the bath

Tarvek drowsed in the heat, not quite awake enough to realize that one should never swelter in the master suite. Sunlight streamed in all the windows, much of it directly onto the bed.  _Inconvenient_ , he thought as he rolled over and fumbled in vain for a cool spot on his pillow. 

A hand brushed against his side, a caress like a furnace blast on his sticky skin. With a grunt, Tarvek pushed it away. Gil made a noise of annoyance and tried again. 

“Hot,” Tarvek grumbled, shifting away from him. He opened his eyes, and the room swam into watery focus. Why was it hot?

Gil lay beside him, not quite touching him, knees and fingertips only a breath away. Tarvek scooted farther across the bed. The sheets clung to him. Gil mumbled another protest. 

The door slammed open. “Get up,” said Agatha. “It’s past noon.”

Tarvek had a vague memory of falling asleep over breakfast. “S'hot?” he slurred, peering at her as though for confirmation. 

“You both slept right through me overhauling the ventilation system. Come on. I’ve had the Castle draw a bath.”

Tarvek squinted a little as though it might help him see through the fog in his brain. “You did this?”

Gil made a rude noise. Somehow, he had already sat up. “You think she’d just be standing there if it had been someone else?”

_I love you, and yet I want to punch you_. The words refused to come out, which was probably for the best. Despite his searing hot touch, Tarvek allowed Gil to drag him out of bed. He shuffled toward the bathroom, where Agatha grinned in the doorway. 

“Mistress, are you certain of the temperature?”

That, in Tarvek’s opinion, was the one flaw in Agatha’s bathroom. He didn’t much care for the Castle pestering him about such details. 

“Thirty degrees,” Agatha said firmly, obviously repeating herself. Tarvek looked past her, to the water in the bath. Thirty degrees, was it? That sounded heavenly. 

To be completely honest, Tarvek felt unreasonably fond of the Heterodyne’s bathtub. Set into the floor and tiled in the Byzantine fashion with a charming monster motif, it was more of a small pool, really. He estimated that it could hold at least a dozen people. The plumbing boasted water taps, scented oils, and assorted cleansing concoctions. Tarvek paused to admire it, as he always did. 

Gil scooped him up and tossed him in.

His fists clenching before he even got his feet under him, Tarvek sprang up out of the water. He pointed an accusatory finger at Gil, and he declared, “Lady Heterodyne, I have been  _most grievously_ wronged!”

Agatha rolled her eyes and sighed a long-suffering sigh. “Gil,” she said in a tone of mild reprimand. Tarvek’s smirk faded as she continued: “He’s wearing  _pants_  in my bathtub.”

“I can fix that!” Gil cast his own clothing aside and plunged into the water with a mighty splash. 

Buffeted by the waves, Tarvek laughed and held up his hands as though to ward off Gil’s approach. “I am quite certain I’m capable—” Gil’s fingers sank into his soggy waistband, and Tarvek’s protest ended in a soft exhalation. 

“I’m not so sure.” Gil’s voice lowered to a rumble that was unnecessary and altogether unfair. “You need assistance so regularly.”

Tarvek gripped Gil by the back of the neck and pulled him close, their foreheads just touching. “I’m going to punch you.”

“Promises, promises.” Gil struggled with the wet fabric, and Tarvek grinned at him. 

“You’re sure I’m the one who needs assistance?”

Growling, Gil gave Tarvek’s waistband a yank. Tarvek lost his footing, and he may have yelped an indelicate word as he collapsed beneath the surface of the water again. Gil fell with him—or perhaps he did it on purpose?—peeling sodden trousers free. Gil sprang up at once, holding wet cloth above his head. 

“Got it!” he crowed. 

Agatha sat at the edge of the bathtub, her feet in the water, smiling a little, Krosp-like smile. Tarvek tried to shake his wet hair out of his eyes and, failing that, he tripped Gil. Agatha did a terrible job of hiding her amusement. 

Gil flailed and splashed and made a tremendous commotion until he had edged near enough to grab Agatha by the ankle. He yanked. Her yelped threat disappeared beneath the surface of the water. A moment later, she stood up and threw her wet dressing gown in Gil’s face. Gil fell backward, feigning a dramatic death. 

Tarvek smiled. Yes, his situation had drastically improved in the span of a few minutes. 

Unless he merely hallucinated from the heat. 

He found that unlikely.


End file.
